


Your Words Are Poison

by GreenRogue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Big Brother Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester is Sam Winchester's Parent, Episode: s14e13 Lebanon, Gen, Hurt Sam Winchester, Poisoning, john winchesters A+ parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25008205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenRogue/pseuds/GreenRogue
Summary: If there was one thing John Winchester knew. It was how to hunt monsters. He may not be staying long-- but he was going to protect his family if it was the last thing he was going to do. the abomination needed to be dealt with.An AU based on the prompt:John learns about the demon blood. Deciding that Sam had gone too far, he takes matters into his own hands and tries to kill Sam.
Comments: 18
Kudos: 175
Collections: Sam Winchester Prompt-a-thon, Sam Winchester WHUMP





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [sakarrie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakarrie/pseuds/sakarrie) in the [SamWinchester_Prompt_a_thon](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SamWinchester_Prompt_a_thon) collection. 



> Last prompt I grabbed for the Sam Winchester Prompt-a-thon. I'm not 100% happy with it, may rewrite it-- or give it a sequel but I have a few other plot bunnies poking at me so we'll see. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> As always I do not own SPN or the characters, I just like to hurt them.

* * *

Jesus. Apocalypses—plural—if John Winchester had thought his life was complicated enough hunting the yellow eyed demon, he had nothing on the future that awaited his boys.

He turned another page of his beaten journal—hunter ears sharp for the sounds of approaching footsteps. The boys had been good at keeping him from perusing the bookcases in that massive library of theirs, but Mary, lovely Mary, had left his journal out in the open for him to just—borrow for a short time. He was happy at first to see that Dean had carried on writing in it. A few passages had Sam’s familiar writing, but most of it was from his oldest.

The woman in white, Wendigos, shapeshifters—a ghost or two. He was proud as he read the entries of his sons’ hunting successes and saddened for them for the losses. That Madison girl hadn’t had a chance in hell after she was bitten but leave it to his youngest to try to defy the laws of nature.

Flipping forward a few pages he craned his neck around the empty room checking the doorways for lingering shadows. He knew Mary was off getting ready for their dinner while the boys finished their shopping. A real family dinner, one he had only dreamed about on the darkest of nights with his only company being a few empty bottles and his guns. John barely glanced at the page in front of him as he flipped to another. He paused at the large bolded letters at the top of the page and raised an eyebrow curiously.

**Fucking. Angels.**

_He said his name was Castiel, that he ‘raised me from perdition’. The way he talks irritates the hell out of me, but I think he’s telling the truth. Damn, Sammy would’ve flipped his shit if he had been there. Kid was always the religious type. I wish I could tell what he was hiding though, it’s like he’s a different person since I’ve been back—_

John swallowed hard and flipped forward a few more pages, stopping again at the next bolded letters he found.

**Demon Blood**

_The little bastard has been drinking demon blood behind my back with that bitch Ruby. He’s gone off the reservation—even the Angel’s say he has to be stopped. I wish Dad was still here, Sam’s my little brother, he’s always gonna come first but this—I don’t know what to do about this. He’s snuck out again, the idiot thinks I don’t know. I seriously owe him a beat down for this, get him to get his head straight before it’s too late. How do I even know if Sam is more human, or demon?_

John set the journal down for a second and folded his hands, resting his chin with a heavy sigh. He had just gotten wind of a demon willing to trade secrets for materialistic gain—Crowley had been very helpful in advising John exactly what yellow eyes was doing in Sammy’s nursery that night. It was one thing to be tainted by the evil at birth—but to continue that taint—to drink it like some sort of perverted— _abomination._ The word felt bitter but right as John glanced back down at the journal, a growing seed of distrust starting to bloom in his mind. If Sam had been cavorting with a demon and drinking its blood—what else had he done.

Scanning again a few months ahead he stopped on a page—intending it to be random—but instead felt like the hand of fate had twisted itself around his heart as John started at the single line of text in front of him.

**Sam raised Lucifer**

That couldn’t be possible—could it? If so where was the devil now? Why wasn’t the world burning—or was it? Sam and Dean said it would be best if he stay in the bunker, less influence on both the past and present until they figured out what this little situation meant for everyone. But what if it was more than that—what if they didn’t want, no, what if **_Sam_** didn’t want him to see the destruction he caused? John continued to flip, eyes searching for Dean’s key words. The entries after that point were sporadic and sparse. Like something was keeping Dean from regularly updating the journal ‘ _Like Sam was keeping him busy.’_ He caught on to clue phrases, each sounding worse than the last.

_He drank more demon blood today—second detox_

_We split for a short time, saw the future thanks to some Angels, we’re all fucked_

_I’m Michael’s vessel—he’s Lucifer’s—_

Finally, he reached a point near the end, the pages running out. The boys must have started a new journal at some point and John was going to have to contend with the half of a story he’d obtained. He didn’t think there was much left to learn however after reading the last sentence and his blood ran cold.

_Sam said yes to Lucifer and lost—I’m headed to the cemetery to try and—I don’t know—end it somehow? Say Goodbye—whatever happens I know this, if I knew if Sammy was safe, I’d watch the world burn._

John knew when the boys gave him the low down of their lives, they’d left a few things out—or glossed over them, but not something to this extent. To hear in Dean’s own words the voice of a beaten hunter—and Sam— _Sammy--_ John snapped the journal shut and stuffed it into his jacket just as he heard the heavy metal door behind him open and his boys arguing voices coming down the stairs. He forced a smile to his lips as he stood, carefully maneuvering so the bulky stowaway wouldn’t be noticed.

“Dean I’m telling you, this is happening quickly we gotta—hey Dad—”. John flickered his glance between the two and mentally kicked himself for not noticing it sooner. The way Dean’s shoulders seemed to hunch forward in defeat, the side eye glances he tossed at Sam when he wasn’t looking—the steady twitch of his trigger finger. Dean wasn’t with Sam because they were brothers—either he was under some sort of, compulsion to stay—or he was a prisoner.

“Hey Boys, back so soon?” Sam glanced back at Dean and sighed heavily before looking back with an apologetic look in his eyes. ‘ _Liar—‘._

“Yeah uh, about that—we need to talk.”

* * *

John waited until the boys were occupied in the kitchen and Mary was setting the table. He only had one chance to do this, and he wasn’t going to waste his opportunity. Sam had sworn by breaking the pearl he would be sent back—sent back like a sheep to the slaughter without a single memory of what was to come. If time followed it’s normal progression he obviously had not known then what needed to be done now. He knew this wouldn’t change his time, but he couldn’t leave Mary and Dean at the mercy of this _monster_ now.

Using the small flashlight in his pocket, John searched the dark room around him for something that would do the trick. There had to be hundreds of storerooms down here, he was depending on righteous fate on laying her hands on him again to guide him in the right direction. He roughly tossed aside dusty books and empty boxes before coming across a small wooden chest with a warning label printed on top. He couldn’t make out the writing, but the clear “Toxic” symbol was hard to miss. Breaking the small lock, he eased the lid off and smiled at his good fortune. Still fresh like the day it was picked, was Hemlock. John could remember enough from his days as a boy scout that normally this was not to be messed with. Now it was his families’ saving grace.

Grabbing several leaves, he closed the lid and placed the chest back on the shelf and exited the room. A strategy forming quickly as he drew closer to the voices echoing from the kitchen. Straightening out a few invisible wrinkles in his jacket, John schooled his face before walking into the florescent light and listened for a moment as the boys bickered.

“Sammy, you don’t drink tea with steak, it’s just not done man.”

“You might not like tea Dean, but some of us enjoy the medicinal qualities it can have.” John watches as Dean snorts and turns to face Sam for a second.

“And what ‘ _medicinal qualities’_ are you trying to brew over there.” John can see the half smile form on Sam’s face, and all John could see was the manipulation for what it was.

“I’m trying to remedy older-brother-itis, so far it hasn’t worked—maybe today.” Dean shook his head and turned back towards the stove and the sizzling steaks with a muttered “Bitch”. Sam’s soft reply of “Jerk” was lost as John cleared his throat and the two looked up over at him. He could still see the open gratitude and love on Dean’s face, his happiness at having his family here and whole was plain to see to the older hunter. What he could also see were the shadows of the man who wrote those words in his journal. The shadows of too many fights and losses.

“Sam, I think you’re Mom needs help setting the table, why don’t you check on her and Dean and I will be in, in a bit.” Sam glanced over at Dean who shrugged, and Sam nodded.

“Sure, lemme just finish this—”

“I’ll bring you your tea, you still drink that loose-leaf stuff.” Sam’s smile almost seemed genuine as he nodded, John wasn’t having it—

“Yeah, you remembered—It’s all right here if you don’t mind—thanks Dad.” John nodded and belatedly gave him a pat on the shoulder when Sam walked past him. As John carefully mixed in his extra ingredient he kept glancing over at Dean’s back and watched him cook. Part of him couldn’t believe his sons would grow to be these men—one a hardened hunter with more stories than John could imagine—the other—well he wasn’t going to let this happen. He wasn’t going to let Sam continue on this path in his time, and he wasn’t going to abandon his oldest to this cluster-fuck.

“Dean, I just want you to know—that whatever happens—I am proud of you--.” Dean hesitated for a second while plating the food before looking back over at John.

“Thanks Dad—that uh—yeah—“. Dean cleared his throat and turned back to the food in front of him and clapped his hands loudly. “Dinner up! C’mon guys, steaks aren’t gonna eat themselves!”. John glanced down at the mug in front of him, the reddish-brown water looking too much like old blood. John knew there was no coming back from this—the gallons of blood on his hands were nearly indistinguishable but this blood—no matter how righteous the cause—was going to haunt him until the end of time.

‘ _This is for my sons—’_

He trailed behind Dean, the mug in one hand and bottle of wine in the other. He brutally shoved his fatherly instincts to the side as he handed Sam his mug and watched as he took a deep breath in and smiled.

“Thanks Dad, this is great. Looks better than when I normally make it.” John just smiled as he watched time seal his fate as Sam raised the mug to his lips, and took a long draw from the poison.

‘ _No turning back now—‘._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If there was one thing John Winchester knew. It was how to hunt monsters. He may not be staying long-- but he was going to protect his family if it was the last thing he was going to do. the abomination needed to be dealt with.
> 
> An AU based on the prompt:  
> John learns about the demon blood. Deciding that Sam had gone too far, he takes matters into his own hands and tries to kill Sam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last prompt I grabbed for the Sam Winchester Prompt-a-thon. I'm not 100% happy with it, may rewrite it-- or give it a sequel but I have a few other plot bunnies poking at me so we'll see. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> As always I do not own SPN or the characters, I just like to hurt them.

* * *

Sam could practically feel the tension and sadness as they ate their dinner in silence. He’d surreptitiously would glance at Dean, then Mom, then land on Dad before starting the cycle over again. It looked like each of them were trying to tune out the conversation to come while at the same time soak in as much of each other as they could.

He took another large swallow of his tea. It was more bitter than usual, and he tried to hide the grimace from his face. Not for the first time that evening he was glad his dad had never offered to make his tea before—clearly it was a learned craft that John just had no experience in. Swallowing back some of the saliva in his mouth, he pushed down the nauseous feeling in his stomach and drained the last of his cup in a rush. Gently placing the mug down, he smacked his lips to try and dispel the bitter flavor before he noticed his Dad watching him. He seemed to almost come to some sort of conclusion before he turned his head to stare at Dean, then Mary.

“Alright. Near as I can tell, we have two choices. We can think about what’s coming, or we can be grateful for this time that we have together. Now, me—” Sam gulped heavily and winced at the sudden pain in his abdomen. He clenched his hand and tried to breath deeply through his nose, but the pain seemed to increase, like a burning fire was spreading in his insides. “I choose grateful. So, whatever brought us together, whatever brought me here to make this right—amen.” The tender moment was interrupted when Sam’s hand spasmed and his fork clattered to his plate. The burning pain in his abdomen raced through his veins as he felt his breath wheeze out of his lungs.

“Jesus, dude—what’s with you—”. He barely felt Dean’s hand on his shoulder before his entire body was wracked with tremors and cold chills. Sam threw his head back trying to force air into his lungs, but they felt like balloons with holes in them, every time he tried to take a breath it was like the air escaped before he could fill his lungs. He turned slowly at the sound of Dean’s and Mary’s panicked voices and tried to call for them. To shout their names in panic, but barely a whisper pushed past his lips. The room was almost deadly quiet as Dean was checking him over for signs of injury. Sam was staring at the ceiling above him, a gray tinge starting to encroach on his vision. He felt stuffy but light in his body and he let his eyes wander from Dean, to Mom—to finally Dad.

Dad—the hunter—the man who spent the majority of his life loving and avenging his wife and protecting his kids. The man he had always butted heads with but still loved just as fiercely as he loved Dean and his Mom. This man who he’d known since childhood to raise a ferocious battle if one of his sons were hurt—was just sitting calmly drinking the glass of wine in front of him. They locked eyes for a moment and Sam shook his head, a strange sense of morbid clarity and resigned acceptance helped give him the strength to rasp out one word.

“Why?”

Dean and Mary whipped their heads towards John, Mary was the first to stand and touched John’s shoulder gently.

“John—what—” Dean was less forgiving as he felt another violent wave of shudders come from his little brother. Easing him gently, Dean laid him on the floor by the table, stretching his limbs straight and resting Sam’s back on his chest. He let one of his hands splay wide across his stuttering chest, feeling his heart beat widely and breath come in quick gasps. For once the constant banging and screaming of Michael was drowned out from Dean’s own mantra echoing fiercely in his head.

_Protect Sammy, Protect Sammy, protectprotectprotect—_

“What did you do—TELL ME, WHAT DID YOU DO!” John’s eyes hardened and he stood abruptly, Mary’s hand being knocked away from his rough change in position.

“Do not raise your voice at me boy. I did what you couldn’t. I did what I had to, to keep my family safe. You said it yourself, I’m not going to remember this—this way at least the monster’s reign is over.” The deadly quiet that settled over the group permeated the air around them. The only noise was the slowly quietening wheezing and gasping of Sam’s breath. Dean stared up at his father, a broken sad look in his eyes.

“Dad—what are you talking about—” John huffed and crossed his arms.

“You heard me—I found my journal, I read what you saw. I read everything you were too afraid to tell me in his presence. He’s a monster Dean, you said it yourself—so far off the reservation he was barely human anymore. Clearly you didn’t have it in you to take care of the problem when I first told you to watch out for him. Now I’m doing what you should have done.

“He’s a monster Dean, an abomination ever since yellow eyes got his disgusting blood in him he was destined for hell. If I had known what kind of damage he was going to cause I’d have drowned him as an infant. His very existence, Dean, has done nothing but cause this family pain and suffering. I couldn’t save it when I had the chance. I’m wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass by again.”

John’s little rant was cut short by the stinging slap from Mary. She stared at him in awed horror as Dean was shaking his head slowly. Sam watched passively as Dean eased him onto the floor and stood tall, an almost defensive position over him.

“You’re wrong Dad—you’re dead fucking wrong—what did you do. What did you give him?” John refused to budge as Dean glared him down. They stood at an impasse, John was clearly not going to give up his secret anytime soon—and Dean wasn’t about to let him get away with this.

“How could you Dad—he’s your son, your youngest—how could you want to kill your flesh and blood?” Dean glanced down at Sam’s still form. His brother’s eyes glistening and staring off to the side. A wash of shame and anguish colored his features and Dean felt his heart breaking for the kid. He looked back at John, his fathers face an impassive stonewall. He could barely see the man he remembered anymore, certainly not the father he had loved and worshipped all his childhood.

“You’re wrong about him. You’ve never been more wrong in your life. Sam isn’t a monster dad—or an abomination—he’s my little brother. He’s the sole reason the first apocalypse was prevented and my reason for still living on this got forsaken planet.” Dean glanced over at the pearl nestled on a velvet pillow on the far table before turning back to his father. “He’s the strongest, kindest, most selfless person I have ever known. Yeah he made mistakes, but so did I, and so did Mom—and so did you Dad. Sam has more than paid his due for his mistakes. He’s shown me, no, he’s shown all of us that there is a better way. That there will always be—a better way.” Dean’s moved slowly now, his hand reaching for the pearl without taking his eyes off his father. John has been standing passively this whole time, almost resigned to what Dean intends to do. Mary had taken a few steps back from John, her eyes red but fierce with a maternal instinct to protect. She and Dean lock eyes for a second and he see’s her barest of nods and Dean takes a deep sigh before grabbing the pearl and the heavy bookend that was next to it.

“You’ve made a mistake Dad. The saddest thing is that we’ll never know. In your time, Sam and I will still be searching for you—hunting for you and praying that you aren’t dead. I think that’s the most messed up bit.” Dean laughs bitterly to himself and shakes his head. “I’ll still have some sort of weird hero worship over you and I’ll still have the fights with Sam about how you treat us. Nothing I do will change our past, but I can protect my future.” His eyes harden as he raises the bookend, he makes sure John is staring right into his eyes before snarling, “No one, goes after my kid.”

The loud crack startles them all and in a blink John is gone. The space he occupied as empty as if he was never there. Sam is still staring at the ceiling. His insides feel like liquid fire as his father’s words echo in his fuzzy mind. It had been so long since he’d heard those words uttered about himself. So long since he had felt so _broken_ inside. In a way though, he was glad for the reminder. His dad was right—Dean should have just left him dead in Cold Oak and none of this would have happened.

Mary inhales shakily for a second, tears streaming down her cheeks before she steels her spine and rushed over to the other side of the table and kneels by Sam. Dean is frozen where he stands, eyes focused solely on the pearl dust under his fingers. The rattling sounds of Sam’s breathing pulls him back to the present and he jerks in response to stare at his brother on the floor. His Mom is kneeling next to his head checking his pulse and shushing him softly.

“It’s okay Sam, everything’s gonna be okay. Just relax.” Sam’s eyes are almost dull and lifeless as they roam around unseeingly until they focus up on his mother above him. He tries to smile but it comes out as a grimace instead as violent coughs cause him to curl up on himself. Dean is by his other side in a second, Hands feeling the cold clammy sweat on his face. Sam slowly swivels his eyes over to Dean. Tears falling freely as he shakes his head.

“I-it’s o-okay D-Dee—Ju—just lem—lemme go—” He breaks off in another fit of coughs and Dean is shaking his head vehemently.

“The hell Sam, no! Remember, you and me. There is no me if there is no you—together little brother or not at all— we’ll fix this, just—just hang on ‘kay? Sammy?” Dean watches in horror as Sam’s eyes roll back into the back of his head and their almost thrown by the violent convulsions that rack his body. His Mom openly sobs as she tries to protect his head from bashing against the floor and for a moment Dean is frozen—he can practically see Sam slipping out from between his fingers.

“Cas—CAS! CAS WE NEED YOU, NOW!” Dean is shouting, practically begging the heavens to open up and for his friend to woosh in on powerful wings. He can feel the change in air as the heavy footfalls land next to him and he barely has to glance up before Cas is kneeling next to him. They look at each other for a moment, Dean silently pleading with the Angel ‘ _Do something’._ Cas leans forward and places two fingers on Sam’s forehead, whispering words of comfort as the white light of grace blinds them all.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Words to Soothe the Soul](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25757032) by [GreenRogue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenRogue/pseuds/GreenRogue)




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